Chased
by Vintage Pandemonium
Summary: I just happened to have been hunted down by the five hottest boys at school and all are willing to die for me. And what else am I supposed to do? Well, of course. RUN. Thing is, things got out of hand, and I don’t think running can help anymore. I'm dead.


**Chased  
**_by _Vintage Pandemonium

**_. ._**_  
_First fic; go gentle on me, people. :) This was rushed; didn't get much time to improve. But I was too excited on uploading my first fic. Will rewrite later.

* * *

_Everything was supposed to be normal. I was simple, I was happy, and I was free, SINGLE and un-haunted by obsessed fans or suitors. But then I just happened to have been hunted down by the five hottest boys at school and all are willing to die for me. And what else am I supposed to do? Well, of course. RUN. Thing is, things got out of hand, and I don't think running can help anymore. This was a death race._

_

* * *

**. . .**  
_

It was a normal day, of course, here at GA University. The sun peeked through thin and fluffy white clouds, the sky an exhilarating blue, and the air, oh, the fresh flower scented sweet air! Okay, maybe that's just because of the air freshener by the air conditioner, but hey! Could a day like this be any worse?

I brushed my hair in front of the dresser. Describe myself? I had long — and I mean _really_ long — brunette hair, my orangish-brown eyes were framed by long lashed that I don't bother to curl or something, and my face was fairly plump but not too fat. I was thin, especially thin, despite the fact that I eat a little too much. Overall I was just your plain Jane; none too fancy, none too boring. And it was how I wanted it to be: clean, simple.

I don't like exquisiteness; it's something I'm not particularly fond of and I really hate those girls who overdo themselves much and wearing excessive makeup (like someone I know) and I just find it really disgusting.

My train of thoughts were interrupted by sudden loud bangs on my oak doors. I lifted an eyebrow and pressed on with brushing my hair.

"Mikan-chan! We're coming in!"

The door banged open. And now, standing by my doorway were my five best friends, Aoi Hyuuga, Hotaru Imai, Anna Umenomiya, Sumire Shouda, and Nonoko Ogasawara, all (except the usual laconic Hotaru) were holding beauty stuff.

Wait. Did I think that right? _Beauty stuff? _As in lip sticks-make up-foundation-pressed-powder-mascara-eyeliner-lip-liner beauty stuff?!

_**Beauty stuff?**_

Kami, do they have a _**death**_ wish?! I told them never to bring horrific stuff like that or else I'll burn them all alive! Crap! What could their plan be now? Oh. I was hoping for some _silence_, perhaps read a good book or two for the entire day off!

Okay, maybe I take back what I said. This day could get worse after all.

I stood up from my dresser, picked up my bag, and headed straight for the door. I think it would be a nice time to get away to the mall while these. I would've made it out, too, if it hadn't been for Aoi, whose big red eyes glowered at me threateningly. And one more thing: I didn't know what I was supposed to be threatened of. She had a sweet disposition! Loyal, airy (and at times air-brained, but don't tell her that), delicate, klutzy, and perfectly nice.

"Aoi," I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest and tapping my right foot impatiently on the floor, "what am I supposed to be afraid of, exactly? Honey, we all know you can't even bare your teeth and scratch your worst enemy even if your life depended on it."

"Mikan," she sneered back and rolled her eyes. (Oh, how that sneer looked so much like her brother's. If I hadn't known her for so long I would've judged her to be the exact copy of her brother: arrogant, narcissistic, and a jerk. But as it is, she isn't), "it's not me you should be afraid of. It's your conscience. You promised us that if Hyuuga — my youngest brother, obviously — beat you at the Physics finals last Friday you'd let us do your whole body over. A promise is a promise, Mikan. This gang of feminine yet vicious girls as so not gonna let you get away without staying true to your promise. No siree."

"And besides Mikan, you have this — _thing_ — to fear," piped up Hotaru, whose lazy monotone voice I would know anywhere. She was rummaging inside her large bag which, until now, I hadn't noticed. A few seconds later she pulled out what looked like a water gun and began polishing it. "This is something I made, and you know, Mikan Sakura, I'm really dying to test it."

Her violet eyes were alight with malice; knowing her, whatever it was she was thinking of it wasn't pretty.

I sighed resignedly. What was I, a scrawny sixteen-year-old girl with spine-long brown hair and big shiny amber eyes, compared to five fully-grown seventeen-year-olds holding each a gun, a fatal eyeliner, a toxic lipstick, a piercing mascara, and a bag full of who-knows-what else? So it was decided, then. I was to stay.

I stood by the doorway and faced them.

"So. What now?"

Green eyes flashed towards my outfit — a blue t-shirt and denim pants with white trainers — and immediately her pretty face began to morph into a scowl and she lifted a long ivory finger to her nostrils.

"Bad fashion taste. And where, pray tell, were you supposed to be headed to again?" she asked, her olive hair swaying with her as she spun around — with me facing her back — to fumble through her sun-yellow bag.

"The mall," I replied. I watched her go stiff and turn slowly back to face me. Her jade eyes were large and rounded like big gumballs and through a disbelieving voice she spat out, "Mall?! In _that_?"

"Well, what's wrong with my dress?!" I said indignantly. It's true! What's wrong with this?!

"Oh, everything, sweat pea, I tell you. Everything is just wrong!" yelled Sumire, walking over to my closet and wrenching it open.

"Oh. My. God."

"What now, Permy?" I asked, exasperated. She ran to my bed and lay face down upon it. Total drama queen, I say. No one can compare to her.

She yelled from underneath the covers. "Everyone, we'll be going to the mall! Mikan Sakura has nothing in her closet for schools uniforms, t-shirts, sweatpants and more T-SHIRTS! Not even one sleeveless dress or evening gown! Ladies, we are in for a serious makeover."

And with that, they dragged me out into the streets to the mall just a few blocks away huffing and puffing and scrunching up their noses whenever they caught sight of me.

* * *

The way to the mall was bad enough, but when we got _inside _the mall, hell, it was chaos. They made me try on every single freaking DRESS inside every single store, and from every store we came out with no less than FOUR bags laden with new shoes, blouses, accessories, and cocktail gowns! It was awful; we had to be stared at for an entire shopping session which, in Sumire's dictionary and for your information, lasted nearly FIVE hours!

Anna and Nonoko insisted on buying me dresses, Sumire on new bottoms (skirts, pants, short —bleah), Aoi on shoes ("You only have one decent shoe, Mikan, ad it was from five years ago!"), and Hotaru on hair accessories ("You need to keep that ridiculously long hair of yours in check."). Arrgh. It's official: I severely hate myself for underestimating their power and I hate myself for not having studied enough for that blasted Physics finals! Now look what I get: a massive do-over from the five scariest girls on the planet.

Anna and Nonoko practically _growled_ at me when I complained about the number of dresses I had to try on in all the shops; Sumire made me take off my pants a thousand times to find one skirt; Aoi pulled out ten shoes all at once from the department store racks and made me wear two kinds on two feet; and Hotaru? Well she was still being her self. She pulled my head I was too scared it might eventually cut like Nearly Headless Nick in the Harry Potter series.

Well, okay. Maybe I'm being a _little_ hyperbolic. Oh, all right! I'm being too exaggerated, but it's true! They made me go to hell and back today that at the end of that grueling endeavor my feet were absolutely sore and every muscle in my tiny frame was absolutely screaming for some sleep!

* * *

I lied in bed immediately after getting back to my dormitory and blasting the AC on full high cool. Sorry, Mother Earth, I hope you can forgive me for the tons of freons and chlorofluorocarbons I'll be sending up to you but please, just this once, let me use it to its highest extent! And PS: if you ever hate me for this, blame it on those five silly girls who are there at the side of the room throwing my clothes.

Th-Throwing. . . . my clothes?!

I sprung to my feet immediately and before I even smelled it, I saw it, right there: the pack of clothes I had were being thrown unceremoniously down my laundry basket.

"What are you doing?!"

Aoi giggled and threw an amused glance over her shoulders towards her smirking friends. "I told you she'd freak out. Don't worry Mikan-chan; we're just keeping it for the time being, just so we could make some space for the new dresses, ne?"

I sighed in relief but before I could even take another step back towards my bed, good grief, they pulled me to the front of my dresser and began playing and rearranging everything that they thought I had a problem with. Too tired to snap back or to even move, I sunk in my seat and allowed them to have the time of their lives.

* * *

"Mikan, wake up."

"Mi-chan . . . Mikan-chan . . . ."

"Stand back."

_**WHAM!**_

"Hotaru! What the bloody hell?!" I yelled, rubbing my backside. I'd jumped in my chair once I heard Hotaru's deadly voice say those creepy words and fell down the white carpet the moment I'd spotted from the reflection in the mirror an irate Hotaru holding her deadliest weapon ever: the Baka gun.

"You slept, baka," she said, ever so nonchalantly. I grew confused; I slept?

I looked over to the wall clock above my mirror and to my chagrin saw the time: nine in the evening.

"Guys!" I said frantically, "dinner's over! You need to eat; I can't allow you to be starved because of me! I —"

"_**Don't**_ flatter yourself," said Hotaru firmly. "We already ate. You were so deep in slumber that we didn't bother to wake you up. Anyways, have you even tried looking at yourself in the mirror?"

Come to think of it, I haven't seen yet what I look like after the purging. Gingerly I stood up and clung to the edge of my dresser; here it was, the moment of truth.

"Dun dun dun dun," joked Sumire. I scowled.

When I looked in the mirror I had half a mind to ask them who it was looking back at me and what she was doing in _my_ room at this hour of night. But suddenly, I realized it was me, Mikan Sakura.

My hair was reasonably shorter (somewhere past my shoulders) and my eyelashes were curved upwards, making my eyes pop out. With these two changes it felt odd how much it made me change. I touched the face reflected in the glass. I couldn't believe it was me. . . .

I turned to look at a weepy Anna and a teary-eyed Nonoko, a triumphant (and gloating) Sumire, an overjoyed Aoi, and a stoic Hotaru. In the flash of an instant, I ran to them and hugged them tightly and nearly cried myself.

I couldn't thank them enough for getting me out of the misery I was in.

* * *

I was thought of as a tomboy. Usually they would come across me in the hallways between classes and taunt me till I shrivel up to pieces and run away. You see, I was never that strong with other people and I never could handle the teasing, except for one certain group.

_They_ were the reason I thank my friends so much for the makeover. _They_ were the pioneers in the Sakura Mikan is a Tomboy group. _They_ were the object of my hidden desires to kill. _They_ were Kokoro Yome, Mochu something, Ruka Nogi, Kitsuneme, and the worst of the lot and the alpha, Natsume Hyuuga. Yes, Aoi's brother. _They_ were known as the "Fiery Ones" and I snorted at that name before, but not so much now.

It never came across me the reason why they were the worst people who got on my nerves and I don't see what was different with them that gave me enough courage to fight back whenever they would get on my bad side. I mean, they're no special from the others, right?

But that was all before.

Now, however, it was a different story. We have waged war.

The poor, stumbling Sakura has now become the girl who does not care about anyone except those she think worthy of being cared about. The once-running-and-hiding little freako was no the greatest fighter in the world.

But _they_ changed as well. They began to see us as their female counterparts and their female nemesis. Tchyah, as if they were the protagonists in the first place. So a few weeks ago, we formally began this full-throttle war between men and women.

That was how I landed in the stupid promise. They thought I was the main reason why this boy toys were after us and they thought I should change. I didn't agree, obviously, so they set up a deal. And . . . well, you know what happened.

So now, this exact Monday morning, I'm extremely eager to see the look on their faces once they see that everything they'd been complaining about were gone and everything they assumed of me were all wrong. The hell, I'll watch them go down as well.

Don't get me wrong; I don't like boasting. But in this particular thing, I just felt the need to prove them that I'm more than the school-geek who's a tomboy. I want this over with once and for all. But the fact is I'm still scared. I don't know if the change was just with me, so I guess all my strong-Mikan talk was all for nothing. Oh, well. Gotta get to class.

* * *

As I walked down the school corridor with my head bowed, I couldn't help but feel anxious. People were gaping at me, whispering behind me.

"_Crap! Look at her face! How could someone get a complexion like that?"_

"_What the bloody hell. Look at those eyelashes! I think she's got extensions! Ew! So desperate!"_

I couldn't steady myself and I didn't know what to do until —

_**Bam!**_

"Watch it, Sakura!" yelled a high-pitched voice I loathed so much. In my list, she's probably next to Hyuuga, with her tanned complexion and her platinum-blonde hair and irritating blue eyes. I could already see her simper.

I raised my head for the first time that morning and I watched Koizumi's smirk turn upside down.

"What the hell did you do to your face?" she hissed venomously. I feigned an innocent look.

"What, _Luna-chan_?" I asked. Where the hell was the Hotaru with a baka gun when I need her?

"You — you're — _disgusting_," she said. "_Absolutely disgusting_. You're such a desperado, you know. Getting your hair done and your eyelashes extended. I guess you had to save up coin per coin for your entire life just to afford such cosmetic surgeries. You are _filth,_ Sakura."

She circled me like a predator on her prey and scrutinized my every detail. She made a lunge towards my eyelashes and would have nearly pulled it until a cold voice spoke.

"Pull her eyelashes, Koizumi, and find out for yourself that they're not extensions."

I sighed in relief and stepped back. I saw four more heads line up on either side of me.

"You're not touching Mikan, Koizumi," Hotaru drawled menacingly. Anna and Nonoko glared, Aoi's jaw was stiff, and Hotaru, despite being her usual self, was emanating raw waves of intimidating aura that even Luna seemed to have felt.

"Well, well, well," she leered. "If it wasn't for the Teletubbies now. Tell me, An-_na_, did you accidentally throw dye on your head to make it pink? And No-no-_ko, _who on earth gave you that ridiculous name?"

She stepped forward and caressed Aoi's cheek, but before she could even do so, I slapped her hand away from it.

"Don't. Touch. Her," I said through clenched teeth. The slap was not a gentle one and Koizumi was glaring daggers at me.

"Tell me, Sakura, how do think you look like?"

I glared at her, taking in every ounce of make-up she had on, swallowing with utter revulsion the revealing top and the extremely short mini skirts and smirked. "Probably better than you."

The crowd gasped, Aoi sneered and Luna looked positively outraged. Her ears were up in steams and her eyes were slanted too horrifyingly; she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say another word, however, the crowd behind her began to part and a lax voice called out.

"Hey! Don't start without us!"

One by one, the alpha males began showing up. Damn. The day started bad enough. I'm quite sure it won't get any worse than this.

Soon came the dirty-blonde head of Koko, the slant eyes of Kitsuneme, the ears of Ruka's rabbit, and the trademark crimson orbs of the one and only Natsume Hyuuga, who was scowling at Koizumi's get up and Koizumi herself.

I only glared at them that I couldn't tell to whom I should focus my glare to: Natsume or Koizumi.

Suddenly, all attention was channeled to me and I had to look again before I actually found out what the matter was all about.

The alphas have got their eyes all one me. And Hyuuga's? His eye were shooting right through me as he slowly pierced me and Kokoro Yome gave a deeply appreciative,

"Whoa. Mikan Sakura is the _babe!_"

* * *

I saw how their eyes stared hungrily, greedily at me. Even Koko's usually goofy eyes were different. It's like a predator, a dormant volcano, awoke inside of them upon sight of me. I couldn't breathe and no one existed but me and the men, and suddenly . . .

. . . Suddenly I found myself caged between a wall and Natsume Hyuuga's firm arms, with him breathing down my neck.

"_Beautiful,"_ he said in my ears. I was frozen with fear and I wasn't able to see everyone's looks. My brain was in severe disarray, probably beyond irreparable damage. "_You've changed, Ichigo, and I just might come after you."_

And if that wasn't enough, four more head swarmed into my view and surrounded me, Natsume finally letting go of me. They _intimidated_ me, which usually they never get to do. And I had a bad feeling about this.

Only one tiny thing came into my mind at the sight of them all around me like a pack of wolves on dead meat:

_Crap._

Oh, and did I mention it was done in front of every single human in the campus?


End file.
